


Cuz Tomorrow Spring Is Here

by Chash



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Kidfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-22 19:23:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4847366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke knows that there is a hot guy with a cute kid living in her building, but she didn't think she'd be rescuing him from a snowbank.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cuz Tomorrow Spring Is Here

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to just be a fill for one of those tumblr prompt posts where someone gets stuck making a snow angel, but I also wanted to do single-dad Bellamy so it kinda got away from me. Title from My Little Pony (hush).

"Excuse me."

Clarke's so focused on her plans for the rest of the day--finish this chapter, go shopping, call Raven, call Wells, probably call her mother--that she didn't even notice the kid approaching her. She's vaguely familiar--lives in her building, likes seeing Clarke's cat in the window, usually hangs out with her hot dad. Not that Clarke is checking out hot dads or anything, that's very inappropriate, but--well, it's noticeable. And it's just eye-candy, it's not hurting anyone.

She smiles at the girl. "Hi, what's up?"

"My dad needs help."

Clarke glances around, but sees no sign of him. Which is odd in and of itself; the girl isn't more than six or so, and Clarke's never actually seen her without her father. He doesn't seem like the type who would leave his daughter alone in the snow.

"Is he okay?" Clarke asks. "What happened? I have a first-aid kit in my bathroom, I can--"

"He's stuck."

"Stuck?"

The girl takes Clarke's hand and tugs her, apparently impatient with Clarke's inability to deal with the situation as she thinks it should be dealt with.

It's January, not too cold, but the snowiest winter Clarke can remember, and she doesn't really want to be outside. But she'd be a very shitty neighbor and human being if she abandoned a tiny child in the cold when her father is apparently--stuck.

What does that even mean?

The kid drags her around the back of their building, to the small backyard. Clarke doesn't go in there must, but she's heard these two out there. There's a swingset that the dad put up at some point, which is--nice. Clarke doesn't have any plans or prospects for kids any time soon, but she likes hearing them out there, enjoying themselves. It makes the whole building feel homier.

It's kind of amazing they're still taking advantage of the outdoors in three feet of snow, though. Clarke would have kept her child inside drawing or something. But someone--probably the dad, shoveled a path around the building, at least, so it could be worse. And there's a snow man and a snow fort, signs of some kind of snowball fight, but Clarke still doesn't see the girl's father anywhere.

"Dad?" the girl calls.

"Annie?" says a voice from across the yard. "Where did you go? I was worried, you can't just--"

"I told you, I was getting help," says Annie. "I found, um--"

"Clarke Griffin," she supplies. "Where is he?"

"He was making a snow angel and he can't get up." And that's when Clarke spots the odd dip in snow across the yard, and when she goes over, there's Annie's hot dad, lying on the ground, apparently having resigned himself to death.

"Hi," he says, with a sort of dorky wave. "There's, uh--there's too much snow."

"Apparently."

He rubs his face, looking miserable. "I've seen you before. You live in the building?"

"Yup."

"Oh good, my embarrassment will last forever. Are you going to help me?"

"I'm thinking about it. Don't get me wrong, I feel bad for you, but--this is hilarious."

" _I_ got up," Annie says, pointed. "It wasn't even hard."

"I'm old and pathetic," says her dad, which is definitely not true. He looks like he's maybe five years older than Clarke, which is pretty young to have a kid Annie's age. "Come on, please, uh--Miss Griffin?"

"Oh my god, do not call me that. Who calls strangers by their last name?"

"Polite people who were raised right. Fine, Clarke, right? I need to get up before I freeze to death."

"He's pathetic," Annie adds.

"She wasn't raised right at all," says her dad. He holds up his hand, and Clarke takes it and helps him pull himself up. He's only a few inches taller than she is, which she hadn't known from seeing him only in passing. She hadn't realized he had freckles either, scattered all over his face. She can see a few curls of black hair escaping from under his hat, and his dark eyes are amused.

Clarke has never seen anyone who seems to be a mother with them. There's a gorgeous woman around her age who sometimes visits, but she clearly doesn't live there. But they might be separated, or maybe she and the mother just keep different schedules. The girl obviously has a mother. Genetically speaking.

But, wow, he's really, really pretty.

"Thanks for the rescue," he says. "I was afraid you were going to leave me to die."

"It was tempting."

"Yeah, I can't blame you. My life definitely flashed before my eyes. I was going to be so embarrassed, freezing to death trying to make a snow angel."

"Yeah, but if you think about it, that would actually be making the most accurate snow angel ever," Clarke says, and he chokes on a laugh.

"Wow, full points for morbid humor in front of my six-year-old," he says, with a wry smile.

"Yeah, she went to play in the fort once you got up, she's not paying attention to us. And you brought up dying before, so I assume you guys have had an open conversation about the inevitability of death and how it's getting closer every day."

He glances over at the fort with a fond smile. "Yeah, okay, you're not wrong." Then he turns his attention back to Clarke. He still has the same warm expression, and it's a lot to deal with. Clarke hopes he'll assume she's flushed from the cold. "I'm Bellamy, by the way. I appreciate your help."

"You already said that. And, honestly, your daughter didn't give me much of a choice. You've raised a very forceful kid."

He laughs. "Yeah, uh, she gets that from O." At her frown, he clarifies, "Octavia. Her mom, my sister." And then he adds, "Oh god, that sounded really creepy, right? I'm not--my sister had her back when she was in high school, way too young to be a parent, so I took her. I'm not, uh--I didn't sleep with my sister or anything." He rubs his face. "This is the worst conversation anyone has ever had, right?"

"Honestly, it might be," she says, unable to keep from smiling. "That was basically a verbal train wreck. I'm kind of impressed."

"That's what I go for." He rubs the back of his neck. "I was going to ask if we could make you hot chocolate to thank you, but after that conversation you probably just want to get away as quickly as possible."

"It could have been worse, you could have followed up on, _her mom, my sister_ with something like _yeah, we're big Game of Thrones" fans_." He lets out a short bark of laughter, and she cocks her head at him. "Do you have those little marshmallows? For the hot chocolate."

"And whipped cream. I'm not an amateur here, Clarke."

"I want, like, twenty marshmallows."

"Deal."

They collect Annie and head into Bellamy's unit, which is right across from hers. It doesn't mean anything, not really, but it still makes her vaguely excited. If he's still calling his sister Annie's mom, there probably isn't a girlfriend or anything in the picture, so--that's good trivia. In general. Hot, single dad with a nice smile and decent sense of humor. And a cute kid.

"Okay," Bellamy says, leaning down to Annie's level. She's looking very, very serious. "What are you going to do?"

"Measure chocolate."

"What am I going to do?"

"Milk."

"What's Clarke going to do?"

"She's a guest, guests don't have to help."

"Well, she wants to," Bellamy says, glancing at Clarke. She hopes her smile isn't too goofy, but--they're adorable. "And she lives in the building, so she's a neighbor, not a guest. So she's going to handle marshmallows." 

"Got it," says Clarke.

"Where do you live?" asks Annie.

"I live right across the hall, actually."

The noise Annie makes is almost inhuman, this squeal of delight that is simultaneously startling and kind of endearing. "The cat apartment!"

"Yeah, I have a cat. Max. He's in the window a lot."

"We know," says Bellamy, looking amused. "We have to say hi every time we pass."

Clarke ducks her head. "I've, uh--yeah. I've heard you guys talking to him." She looks back at Annie. "You know, once we finish making the hot chocolate, you could come meet him, if you want. He loves attention. Uh, if your dad doesn't mind," she adds quickly. It seems like the kind of thing that's fairly harmless; she's already in their apartment, hers shouldn't be that much worse.

Judging from Annie's expression, if Bellamy says no, she will actually die. "I'd have to be a monster to turn down that invitation," he says. "Thanks, Clarke."

Bellamy heats up milk on the stove while Clarke helps Annie with the measuring--not that she _needs it_ , Annie assures her, she just wants to show Clarke how it works--and gathers marshmallows, and once they have their mugs they go across the hall to Clarke's apartment. Annie sits on the floor, rubbing Max's tummy until the cat is semi-liquid lump of contented purring, and Clarke and Bellamy take the couch.

"She's going to want to come over all the time, now that we've met you," Bellamy remarks. "She really wants a pet, but I don't think we have time to take care of anything."

"What do you do?"

"I'm a high-school teacher," he says. "And I have a library shift on Saturdays. Annie usually just comes over after school since she can't be alone, so we usually don't get home until four or five, and we leave really early." He shrugs. "I know cats are pretty self-sufficient, but I'd feel bad. And I've never had pets, I wouldn't know what to do."

"If you can raise a child I'm pretty sure you can keep a cat alive," Clarke says, amused. "Kids are harder."

"She can talk. Tell me what she wants."

"Trust me, Max tells me. But any time you guys need some cat time, you're welcome. I work from home, so I'm usually around."

"What do you do?"

It's a little embarrassing, knowing he's a dad and a teacher and a librarian. But it would be weirder to lie. "I, uh. I actually write children's books."

"Huh. Anything I've heard of?"

"Maybe. Um, my pen name is Angela Clarke, so--"

He actually chokes on his hot chocolate. It looks painful. "Holy shit, really?"

"Language," says Annie, prim.

"Sorry." Bellamy is kind of staring at her, which makes sense, honestly. She's not J. K. Rowling or anything, but she's fairly well known, in certain circles. Annie might be a little young for some of her stuff, but not all of it, and, again, some kind of librarian. "Really?" He asks again.

Clarke shrugs, a little awkward. "Really."

"Wow. Sorry, not trying to be weird, just--you're really young."

"I started writing them in college, for fun. My mom's pretty well-connected, so she got me in touch with a publisher, and--" She shrugs again. "I've been very lucky."

"Do you want to do a reading at the library?" he asks, and then flushes. "You know, I sort of hoped I'd be cool if I ever met a celebrity."

Clarke has to smile. "I'm not much of a celebrity. And I already knew you weren't cool. You got stuck in a snow angel and the accidentally implied you were into incest, so--"

"Thanks for making this even more depressing," he says, but he can't keep a smile off his face, and Clarke can't either. He's cute. And she likes him.

"I could maybe do a reading. If you come visit my cat sometimes."

*

Sunday becomes Bellamy-and-Annie day. Clarke's relieved to find she looks forward to seeing Annie too, because if she's going to be into a guy with a kid, she will definitely need to like the kid too. Which sounds really mercenary, like one of those soap-opera characters who's scheming to land a husband, but--it's not like that. Clarke hasn't been interested in dating anyone in a while, not since she and Lexa broke up, and she'd like to give this a chance, but she's never even though about a relationship with someone with a kid.

But now that she's getting to know Bellamy, she can't stop thinking about it.

They come over after lunch the first week, but then Clarke offers to make brunch, and somehow it turns into her teaching Annie how to make waffles from scratch by the second week, and--she likes it. Annie is bright and sharp, always eager to learn new things, and Bellamy seems happy to hang back and let them do it. So then it becomes almost a whole day with the Blakes, making brunch and then sitting together in Clarke's living room, Bellamy grading or making tests or lesson plans, whatever teachers do, Annie playing with the cat or drawing, and Clarke working. It's companionable and easy, and Clarke feels like it's something she could get used to. Something she _wants_ to get used to. It's terrifying and exciting, all at once, developing feelings for a _family_.

"You're twenty-five, you're already thinking about settling down with a kid?" Raven asks, during their weekly phone call. After two months of Sundays with Bellamy and Annie, she decided it was probably time to let Raven give her a lecture on all the ways this is a terrible idea. Because someone needs to, and Raven's always good for that kind of thing.

"I think when there's a kid involved you have to be thinking about settling down by default, right? Like--you have to at least be thinking about the long haul." She flops down on her back on the bed. "And, really, who ever starts dating someone _not_ thinking about settling down? What's the point of dating if you don't think it could maybe turn into something permanent?"

There's a long pause, and then Raven says, "So, you've got it _really bad_."

"He's incredibly pretty and a great dad. I'm only human, okay? Apparently guys who are good with kids do it for me. And he's--god, he's kind of adorably inept, always puts his foot in his mouth, but he's such a great guy. And Annie's amazing, she's really smart. You'd love her, she was asking me all about how my computer worked and I couldn't really explain." She rubs her face. "This is where you talk me down, right?"

"I might need to stage an intervention. Does he know?"

"I hope not. It's embarrassing. I have this giant, stupid, high-school crush on him, and he's, like, thirty and a father and way beyond that shit, right?"

"I don't know, you're hot and have a good job, he should be into it. Just, you know--talk to him. Single parents and dating are a minefield, so communication is key."

Clarke frowns. "Are you trying to give me actual, legitimate dating advice?"

"You're so gone, there's no point in trying to talk you out of it. Just be the best dilf-hunter you can be, okay?"

"Thanks," says Clarke. 

She assumes this part of the conversation is over, almost moves on, but then Raven says, "My mom dated a lot of guys who never gave a shit about me. Those were a lot better than the ones who acted like they did and left anyway. Just--keep that in mind, okay?"

"Okay."

"He sounds like a good guy. You should talk to him. Maybe he's not even on the same page, I don't know. But--you should figure it out."

"Yeah," says Clarke. "I was hoping you were just going to make fun of me, honestly."

"Don't worry, that's coming too."

*

 

The next Saturday, Clarke does her first reading at the library where Bellamy works, and Octavia Blake is there.

Clarke recognizes her as the woman she thought might be Annie's mother, which, she was technically right, so there's that. She's still mildly terrified of the other woman, for all she's a year younger and a few pounds lighter than Clarke is. She still looks like she wants to fight.

Bellamy is working, but still manages to lurk while Clarke reads, shelving books in her general area. Annie sits in Octavia's lap in the front row, and afterward comes over to make introductions to Clarke again, even though Bellamy already did. It's honestly pretty intimidating; she's got a pretty big crowd, but the Blakes are easily the most terrifying part of the entire thing. Fans are fine, but crushes really suck.

"This is my Aunt Octavia," says Annie, proper. "She's not really my aunt."

"Yeah, your dad told me," says Clarke, smiling. "It's nice to meet you," she tells Octavia.

"Good reading," says Octavia. She looks at Annie. "You want to go hang out with your dad for a minute?"

"No," says Annie, rolling her eyes. Apparently she's wise to adults telling her to leave so they can have private conversations. "But I will anyway."

Clarke has to smile, and Octavia does too. "Thanks, kiddo. We'll still getting ice cream later."

"Can Clarke come?"

"Isn't it winter?" Clarke asks, frowning. There are definitely parts of the world where March is spring, but they don't live in one. 

"Ice cream is an always food," says Octavia. "Clarke can come if she wants. Go help with shelving."

"So, this is the interrogation, right?" Clarke asks, with a wan smile.

"My brother talks about you all the time. Even more than Annie does, which is saying something." She glances over at Bellamy, worrying her lip. "I don't know if he really thinks he's not into you or just doesn't want to admit he is, but--he's been single for a while. His last girlfriend went pretty wrong. So--if you're not interested, you should back off."

"What if I am?"

"Then you should probably hit him in the head or something," says Octavia, grinning. "Because he's never going to notice."

Clarke laughs. "My best friend told me I should talk to him about Annie and stuff, like a responsible adult."

"Good instinct, but way too subtle for Bell."

"When was his last girlfriend?"

"Two, three years ago? Annie was in pre-school. Bell thought it would be better if he just didn't mention her at first, which I told him was a shitty idea, and it was. She was really not happy about the whole _surprise, I've got a kid_ thing, and I honestly can't even blame her. But it left Bell even stupider about dating, which is saying something."

"I like Annie too," Clarke says. Sister approval seems important. And maybe if she tells Octavia, it will be easier to tell Bellamy. "I--both of them. I like both of them."

"Cool. So, ice cream?"

It feels like the Octavia conversation should maybe be a natural way to talk to Bellamy, just a casual, hey, did you know your sister gave me the _you better not hurt my brother_ talk? But she's still kind of--well, kind of chicken, honestly. And if Octavia is wrong, and he doesn't feel the same, it'll be both embarrassing and heartbreaking. Both of which sound terrible.

She thinks she should probably do it before Raven's next call. Because Raven will keep asking about it until she gets it done. Raven is a good friend like that. But she's safe until then, she assumes.

"Raven says you have a single-dad boyfriend," Wells says, catching her totally off-guard.

"You guys starting to date is the worst thing that has ever happened to me," Clarke grumbles.

"Best thing that happened to me, so it evens out. Who's this guy?"

"He's my neighbor," Clarke says. "He's not my boyfriend."

"You were right!" Wells calls. "She hasn't talked to him."

"Oh my god, did she have you call instead of doing it herself so I wouldn't screen the call?"

"It's not my fault you're predictable," Wells says, unrepentant. "Tell me about him."

"There's nothing to tell," Clarke lies. And then, thankfully, there's a knock on the door. "Oops, someone's here, gotta go."

"You're a coward, Griffin!"

"Just about feelings. Bye, Wells."

It's Bellamy and Annie at the door, which doesn't really surprise her. They're the only people who ever come by unannounced. But it's Wednesday, which is weird for them. She sees them in passing on weekdays, hears them saying hi to Max in the window, and then her by extension, but they don't tend to visit.

"We're inviting you to dinner," Annie says, carefully formal.

Clarke glances up at Bellamy, who smiles with half his mouth. "Annie thought it was rude that you keep making us food and we never invite you over. And she's right," he adds, when his daughter glares at him. He offers her a sheepish smile. "You have the cat, so we were just coming to you. But yeah, if you're free, we'd love to have you over for dinner."

"That would be great," she says, kneeling down so she's at Annie's level. "Thanks for inviting me."

"Thanks for always having us over," Annie says, automatic, a child who has been well trained. Then she takes Clarke's hand and tugs her across the hall.

Clarke hasn't been to their apartment since the hot chocolate, and she didn't actually look around much then, since they were basically strangers. Now she sees it through the lens of being Bellamy and Annie's place, their things decorating the living room, Annie's toys scattered around, and she feels this stupid fondness for it in her stomach, like it's a part of them.

She is in so much trouble.

Bellamy cooks while Annie gives Clarke a tour of the apartment generally and her room specifically, which mostly involves being introduced to about twenty billion stuffed animals, and then playing with Duplos. Which Clarke is totally down for. Duplos are awesome.

She doesn't realize Bellamy is standing in the door until Annie says, "Why are you just standing there?"

Clarke looks up and sees him, all fond eyes and smile, and, yeah. She's _screwed_.

"Didn't want to disturb you guys. But dinner's ready when you are."

It turns out Bellamy is a pretty good cook, which makes him blush when she tells him so, a duck of his head that makes her heart tug. 

"I used to cook for Octavia too," he tells her, when they're washing dishes together. "When we were kids. Our mom worked a lot, so--I took over pretty young."

"Is that why you took Annie?"

"Part of it." He looks down into the sink, worrying his lip, apparently thinking something over. "I was twenty-three when she found out she was pregnant, she was seventeen. I wasn't living at home anymore, but I was pretty close. Octavia just wanted to get an abortion, she didn't want to deal with it. And I was on her side. But--our mom didn't believe in that stuff. She was really pro-life, and O finally agreed she'd have the baby, and Mom would raise it. And then--she was seven months pregnant when Mom died. Car crash. It was too late to abort and she was kind of--" He huffs, and Clarke feels guilty.

"You don't have to tell me. I didn't know it was such a loaded question," she adds, bumping his shoulder with a smile.

He smiles back. "I don't mind. She was just--she was worried about putting it up for adoption, because she hadn't done any research and she wanted to make sure it got to a good home, you know? Somewhere she'd be taken care of. And I was almost twenty-four, steady job, not _rich_ , but--I could afford a kid. And O was about to graduate high school, on her way to college. Annie would have torn up her life, but--I could take her."

She looks around to make sure Annie hasn't come in, but she seems to still be happily in her room. "Do you ever regret it?" she can't help asking.

He snorts. "The first two years, almost all the time. She was born right after O graduated, so I had the summer off to take care of her, and the school was really understanding, let me take the first half of the year too. Babies are lucky they're cute or they'd never survive infancy. But--it got easier. And I love her, so, yeah. I don't regret it. Even if I occasionally hear about what my college friends are doing with their lives right now and get jealous."

"What are they doing?"

"Meeting girls, getting laid," he says, wry, and then adds, "Well, uh, Miller meets guys, but same general idea."

"You meet girls," Clarke says. Her voice is normal, although her entire body is on alert. This is the time, right? This is when they talk about this. "You met me."

He smiles a little. "And Octavia says I should be getting laid."

Clarke full-out grins. "That's such a copout, come on. _My sister says you like me_ is the least possible risk for this conversation."

That's enough to strengthen his smile, and just like that he's grinning at her too, stupidly. "I just said she thought I needed to get laid, I never said she thought you should be involved."

"But she does."

"Yeah." He worries his lip. "Honestly, I'm really rusty with, uh--this. And it's not like I was ever that great at it, so--"

Clarke is going to talk to him. She is. It just feels like it's going to help a lot more, broadly, if she leans up and presses her mouth to his, so she does, just so he stops worrying.

And it seems to work. His hand, still a little damp from the dishes, comes up to cup her cheek, and when she doesn't seem to mind--she _started it_ , of course she doesn't mind--he makes a low noise and pushes her up against the counter, deepening the kiss.

When he finally pulls back, they're both breathing hard, and Clarke's got an indent in her back from the counter, which she could not care less about.

"You're great at that," Clarke tells him, grinning.

"Thanks, I practiced on my hand a lot when I was a kid."

She dissolves into giggles against his neck, stupidly relieved, and he wraps his arms around her. 

"This is basically new territory for me," he admits. "Dating someone who knows I have a kid."

"And I've never dated anyone with a kid, so--that's cool. We can suck at it together."

"Awesome." He leans in for another kiss, this one much quicker. "I'm going to totally ruin the mood talking about kid logistics in, like, five minutes. Just warning you. But we can make out for five minutes before I start."

Clarke laughs. "Generous."

"Not even a little. You have no idea how much I've been wanting to make out with you."

"I have some idea," she says, and pulls him back down to her.

*

They've been going out for just over three months before they tell Annie. Clarke feels a little guilty about it, but it's Bellamy's call, and he's already a little worried about how attached Annie is to Clarke, in case something goes wrong. And Clarke gets that, because she's pretty attached herself, and she's an adult who understands this stuff. But they do other things to get ready to tell her eventually--Annie starts spending some Saturdays with Clarke instead of at the library with Bellamy, and Clarke has dinner with them at least once a week. She already had semi-regular sleepovers at her aunt's place, which gives them built-in, no-excuse-needed nights to themselves, and--it's going really well, as far as Clarke's concerned.

But she spends most of the day she knows Bellamy is telling Annie in a haze of semi-panic. Not that she really thinks Bellamy is going to immediately break up with her if Annie feels weird about them dating, but--he's a good dad who cares about his daughter's feelings, and if this is hard for her, she comes first. Clarke gets that, respects that, adores him for that, but--it's still terrifying.

"You'll be fine," Raven says, so absent Clarke's not sure she's even listening. "The kid likes you, right?"

"I think so, yeah," says Clarke. She can't help grinning. "She fell asleep on me when we were watching a movie last week and Bellamy let me tuck her in."

Raven groans. "You know you're nauseating, right?"

"Believe me, I know. I'm totally disgusted with myself."

Raven sighs. "Look, if the kid didn't like you, you'd probably know. Her dad would _definitely_ know. It might be weird for a while, but that's fine. Either it'll get better or you'll figure something else out. I know you never had a single parent, but I promise romantic comedies make it seem like their kids are way more invested in their parents' love lives than they are. Don't stress yourself out, you guys will make it work."

"That was actually painful for you, wasn't it," Clarke says, amused.

"I hate being supportive for extended periods of time. If you have more issues, call Wells, he's better at this shit."

"He's not. You're really helping."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm the best. Work on your book or something, stop calling me."

And Clarke tries, she really does. Bellamy isn't telling Annie until she's done with school, so there's this whole stretch of day where she cannot possibly get any news, and she's still looking at her phone every few minutes, like maybe Bellamy is going to text that Annie told him, telepathically, that she does not want him and Clarke to date.

The worst part is that she knows how irrational she's being and still can't _stop_. It's going to be fine, one way or another, Clarke just hates waiting for things to happen.

Luckily, Bellamy knows not to keep her in suspense. He texts at four o'clock, right before they'll be leaving the school: _She's fine, don't worry. You're still invited for dinner and everything._

The relief is instant and complete, washing over Clarke like she jumped into a lake. Her nerves don't return until the knock at the door an hour later, presumably Annie coming to get her, and she suddenly realizes she has no idea what kind of dating discussions you have with a six-year-old.

But there's no time like the present to find out.

"Hey, Annie," she says, opening the door. As usual, Bellamy's not with her, already started on cooking, and Clarke finds she's grateful for the privacy. "How was school?"

"Okay," says Annie, shrugging with just one shoulder, quieter than usual. "I got to read my story about going hiking aloud, the teacher said it was really good."

"That's awesome."

She nods, still subdued. "You like my dad?" she asks, which Clarke was basically expecting.

"Yeah, I do."

"And me?"

"You too, yeah."

"Are you going to live with us?"

"Not right now," she says. "I'm going to keep living in my apartment. But maybe someday, I guess."

She nods. "Okay. It would be okay if you lived with us. If you brought Max."

Clarke has to bite her lip to keep from laughing. The kid has her priorities straight, that's for sure. "If I come to live with you, Max will definitely come with me," she confirms.

"Good," says Annie. "Do you want to play Duplos?"

"I would love to."

Later, curled up on the couch with Bellamy after Annie's in bed, she remarks, "That kid's a mercenary, she's just using this relationship to get closer to my cat."

Bellamy snorts. "Right? The first thing she asked me was _does this mean we get the cat?_ And then, _when do I get a little sister?_ "

"What did you tell her?"

"Not until she learns how to take care of the cat."

"Smooth."

"These are the kinds of conversations you have to look forward to. So if you want to bail, now's the time."

Clarke smiles and shifts closer. "You said yesterday was the time to bail."

"Okay, fine. This is really, absolutely the last chance to bail."

"We're going to be at the altar, about to get married, and you're going to be like, okay, last chance, seriously--"

He kisses her hair. "We're going to be at the altar?"

"Unless I bail, yeah. That's how it works. Either one of us bails, or we end up married."

He kisses her hair. "Well, like I said, now's the time."

"I'm good."

"Okay, altar it is."

He does remember, a year later, right before the wedding, to tell her this is her last chance to get out of this.

She's still good.


End file.
